


Carry This Picture

by psalmoflife



Series: Road To Joy [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Clint is not the abuser, F/M, Past Abuse, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 00:52:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psalmoflife/pseuds/psalmoflife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been two years since Darcy left Him, but she's still struggling to move on- and struggling to figure out if her scars, physical and emotional, will keep her from being happy with Clint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry This Picture

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: While this takes place entirely after the end of the abusive relationship that happens in "Mean," this story is about Darcy dealing with being in her first post-abuse relationship. Said relationship included sex that I consider non-con, even if Darcy might not. There are lots of references to that relationship, particularly the issues Darcy now has with sex/physical contact. 
> 
> Rating is for the abuse-related content, as well as language and sex. 
> 
> I have never personally been in an abusive relationship, but borrowed heavily from some friends' experiences. Any misinterpretations are entirely my fault. I do have some personal experience with non-consensual sexual contact, which informed a lot of Darcy in this story: that said, this is a singular portrayal of coping that is not representative of all survivors. I've been playing with this for months (literally) because I wanted to portray Darcy's road to normalcy without downplaying the long-lasting effects of abusive relationships, or making it seem like Clint is magic and fixed everything. Hopefully I succeeded. 
> 
> If there is something offensive or inherently wrong with this, someone please tell me so I can fix it! 
> 
> There is a third story in this series, but I'm not sure when it will go up- I'm in the middle of finals/moving and this series takes lots of time for me to write/edit. 
> 
> Title is from Dashboard Confessional's song "Carry This Picture."

There are many advantages and disadvantages to working with SHIELD. The overabundance of men kind of counts as both- SHIELD may have fantastic gender equality policies, but the military doesn’t, so there are simply more male ex- soldiers to recruit than female. It means lots of eye candy, but also lots of talk of sports and bodily functions. 

All the testosterone drives Jane nuts, and she mandates weekly Girls Outings with anyone who can get away. Since Jane is Darcy’s boss, Darcy is always free, and more often than not, Natasha is too. Pepper joins when she’s in town, and Maria Hill even sneaks away every so often.

The five of them are wandering through Macy’s when Pepper starts teasing Maria about her new boyfriend, who is apparently one of Tony’s lawyers and has a reputation for being a stickler for the rules. 

“Yeah, it’s annoying that he won’t ever take an extended lunch,” Maria agrees. “But the sex is great so that balances things out.” 

Everyone else is giggling, and Darcy busies herself with a rack of dresses. Unfortunately the subject doesn't change and they all- even Natasha- end up in a discussion about positions and lingerie and good lord, Darcy does not need to know that much about Thor’s… anatomy. 

Eventually Darcy becomes aware of Maria’s curious eyes on her, and she slowly turns and stammers out “I, uh, don’t like sex.” 

Natasha, who seems to have figured out most of the pieces of her past, looks sympathetic. Everyone else looks vaguely horrified. Pepper opens her mouth to say something, but Jane changes the subject before she has a chance.

\---

Natasha comes to her apartment later and asks if she wants to talk about it.

Darcy is surprised to discover that she kind of does. 

“I know that most people really like it,” she explains. “But it’s always just been painful. Kind of awkward.”

Natasha looks like she is considering her next words very carefully. “How many men have you been with?” 

“Just… just one.” 

Natasha gives her a piercing look. “Have you thought about sleeping with Clint?”

Darcy turns tomato red. “Of course. But…”

“But what?”

“But he’s too much of a gentleman to push, and I just don’t like sex, okay?” Darcy pauses, tracing a pattern on the countertop. 

Natasha reaches out and covers Darcy’s hand with her own. Darcy, who has never seen Natasha touch another person outside of combat, jumps and stares at their hands before looking back up at Natasha.

“I know your experiences with men haven’t been positive,” Natasha says. “And I know that you might not want to talk to me about it. But I really think you need to talk to someone.” 

“You mean a shrink?” Darcy asks.

“If you want to call them that,” Natasha says mildly. “Or one of your friends. You don’t have to deal with this on your own.” 

Just thinking about talking about everything- about Him- has Darcy’s throat swelling shut and tears stinging her eyes. “I don’t know if I can,” she whispers. “And I know that you and Clint just want to help, but I don’t think talking will do that.” There is a long pause, and then Darcy says, “It doesn’t feel fair to sleep with Clint, as much as I want to make him feel good, when I know I won’t like it.” 

Natasha looks sympathetic- slightly incredulous, but sympathetic- and refrains from speaking until Darcy gets her blushing back under control.

“You’re right about one thing,” Natasha finally says. “Clint will never ask you to do something if he doesn’t think you’re ready. So the question is, are you ready?”

“I don’t know. I might not ever be ready,” Darcy admits. 

“And that’s completely fine, but if you are, he’s going to be there. And,” Natasha’s smile is just a little wicked, “I bet he could change your mind about sex.” 

\---

Clint comes to find her later, when she is so wrapped up in her thoughts that she completely forgets about their plans to watch _Remember The Titans_. 

When she opens the door he has a teasing smile, which quickly turns worried when he sees the look on her face. “Darcy? You okay?”

“Can we talk?”

He looks even more confused, but says “Of course,” and follows her to the couch.

She almost chickens out, but the concern in his eyes and the steady pressure of his fingers when she reaches for his hand have her blurting out “I like you.” 

His eyebrows go up a little. “I like you too.” 

“No, I mean-” Darcy is blushing again, remembering exactly why she had been single for most of high school. “We were talking about sex earlier- which I don’t like, by the way- and then Natasha came to talk to me about you, and how we’re dating, and-” 

She breaks off, trying to decipher his reaction. His face is blank now, but he’s still holding her hand. She takes a deep breath and says “I think I’m falling in love with you.” 

She never thought she would describe a man as beautiful, but the smile on Clint’s face has her reeling in the best possible way. He shifts a little closer, and asks “Is it okay if I kiss you?” 

Darcy knows that she likes his kisses, so she nods, and then his lips are on hers and yeah, she definitely is okay with him kissing her when it makes everything else fall away. 

Her eyes are slow to flutter open after he pulls away, and his free hand comes up to trace along her jawline. “You know we don’t have to do anything you don’t want, right?” 

Darcy nods, burrowing into his side and making a pleased noise when his arms go around her. “It’s not that I don’t want to, exactly,” she tells his shoulder. “It’s just…”

“You've had a terrible experience and that leaves scars,” Clint finishes.

It’s the closest they've come to having a real discussion about what happened. “How much do you know?” Darcy asks.

“Bits and pieces. You used to talk in your sleep when you would crash on the couch. And Sean told me about the day he helped you move.” Clint drops a kiss on the top of her head. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“I don’t want to tell you but I want you to understand,” Darcy says with a shaky laugh. 

“Well, I know that you have some reasons not to trust men,” Clint says. “And that you also have some reasons not to like sex. But I’m reasonably confident that sex with me would be better than sex with… the other guy.”

“You make it sound like I’m sleeping with Bruce,” Darcy deflects.

“Are you?” 

Darcy’s snorting giggles break the tension in her chest, and she pulls away from Clint’s shoulder to make eye contact. 

“I’m not sleeping with Bruce,” she says. “And I know you would be more… gentle.” Clint’s jaw tightens a little, but his eyes stay calm. “It’s a conditioning thing, I guess. It’s only ever been painful, so that’s what I expect.” 

Clint takes a deep breath before he replies. “Anything we do together, that’s totally up to you. But I promise not to hurt you. And if you say stop, we stop.” He presses his lips against her forehead. “Deal?” 

Darcy smiles. “Deal.”

\---

The day after her conversations with Natasha and Clint, Darcy discovers a business card tucked inside her purse, listing the contact information for a SHIELD-employed therapist who apparently specializes in women’s issues. The week after that, Darcy finally talks herself into picking up the phone.

Susan is in her mid-40s and unashamedly going gray. She doesn't wear shoes in her office and refers to Fury as an overpuffed peacock in a pirate costume. Darcy likes her immediately.

Susan was apparently named for the C.S. Lewis character, so they discuss children’s literature for fifteen minutes before Susan asks, “Is there anything else you want to talk about today?” 

Darcy looks down at her lap. “Yeah. I, um, a few years ago I was in a really bad relationship. And now I’m dating someone new, and he’s amazing, but I’m scared.” 

“That’s perfectly understandable,” Susan says. “Can you name a specific thing that you’re scared of?”

“I’m not scared that he’ll hit me or anything,” Darcy says. “But we've sorta been moving towards being physical”- and now she’s going to have Olivia Newton-John in her head all day- “and I think it’s going to break us up.”

Susan just nods. Darcy’s pretty sure that she’s supposed to be taking notes or something, but she looks content to keep drinking her hot chocolate. “Has he been pressuring you?”

“No, he says it’s up to me. Other people think it’s weird, though.” Darcy chews on her lip for a second, then says “I know what other people think about our relationship shouldn't matter, but they've known him longer, and he’s a guy! I mean, they like sex, right?” 

“Usually.” Susan gives her a long look, then asks “Do you like sex?” 

“No.”

“Hmm.” Susan’s face is still serene. Darcy is pretty sure hers is bright red. “Well, you’re in charge of your body and what you want to do with it.” Susan finally reaches for a legal pad and starts writing something down. “Before I see you next week, I want you to write down everything that you don’t like about sex, okay?”

\---

The following week Darcy brings what she has dubbed her Sex Homework to Susan’s office. Susan doesn’t ask to read it, but she does ask Darcy to talk to her about the items on the list. 

When Darcy finishes speaking, Susan says “I noticed that everything you just mentioned is about how your partner treats you. You don’t like the pain involved, or being made to feel unattractive.”

“Who would?” Darcy mutters. 

“How does your current partner treat you?” Susan asks. 

“Clint- his name’s Clint- mostly we just hang out, I guess. We watch football together, and he has this plan to eat at every restaurant in New York, which I think is kind of crazy, but we've found some nice places.”

“Does he touch you?” 

“Yeah.” There’s a long pause, but Darcy’s pretty sure her head would explode in embarrassment if she tried to elaborate.

“Do you touch him?” 

Darcy has to take a moment to think about that one. The realization that she’s now in a relationship where she touches, rather than only being touched, takes her by surprise. “Yeah.”

Susan gives her more homework: a list of things she likes about the ways that she and Clint touch each other.

\---

She keeps going to Susan and the assignments continue. Darcy’s now keeping a journal, which she hasn’t done since middle school, but really is a good way to organize her thoughts and separate current events from flashbacks. Susan also has her write more lists, about herself, about her expectations in a relationship, and about how Clint treats her. Most of their conversations involve Susan gently nudging Darcy towards admitting that her relationship with Him had been completely atypical, in addition to abusive. 

One day she’s curled up on the couch next to Clint watching a movie when the film cuts to a scene of two of the characters kissing in the rain. Darcy wriggles out from under his arm to reach for her bag, scribbling something into her journal. 

Clint gives her a bemused look. “What are you doing?” 

Darcy doesn't feel as embarrassed as she’d have guessed, but her cheeks do get a little pink. “It’s my therapy homework.” She pauses, realizing that this is the first she’s told Clint about going to therapy, but he just smiles. “It’s a list of things I want you to do to me someday.”

Clint traces one thumb down her jawline, doesn't ever look down at the list in her hand. “Let me know if you want to try any of your ideas, okay?” 

\---

The subject doesn't officially come up again for a few weeks, but Darcy can feel things subtly shifting between them. Clint treats her the same, but now that she’s started wondering what sex would be like with him, she’s losing some of the tension she’d been carrying in her back for years. She’s now the one who initiates most of their kissing, and the one who turns most of their kissing into making out. 

At Susan’s suggestion, Darcy starts sharing bits and pieces of her lists with Clint. It’s never anything in full, and their conversations tend to involve a lot of mumbling and blushing from Darcy, but she’s becoming more and more certain that things with Clint will be different. She’s not sure when she got so good at reading his tells, but her stories tend to make him a strange combination of angry and sad. 

When she shares her list of sexual experiences she hasn't had, including cuddling, receiving oral, and orgasm, his eyes hold a promise. 

\---

Clint’s hands stay in perfectly respectable places, until the day when she covers his hand with hers and starts inching it upwards under the edge of her sweater. 

She expects an immediate squeeze, and is surprised when his fingers instead trace along the band of her bra, then along the top of the cups, following the fabric down to the valley between her breasts. When he finally begins circling a nipple with his thumb she can’t help but gasp, and when he nudges her bra aside, the feeling of skin-on-skin has her pushing her hips into his. 

He laughs a little at that, mouthing a path down her throat before lightly brushing a nail over her nipple. Darcy’s whole body jumps with that one, grabbing at his biceps to steady herself.

“Hold on a second,” she gasps.

Clint immediately pulls away, eyes full of worry, but Darcy smiles and says, “Just needed to breathe.” She hesitates for a moment, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, before reaching for the bottom of her shirt.

There is something kind of empowering, Darcy decides, about being the one to take off her own clothing. Clint seems perfectly content to sit back and watch as she peels her sweater over her head and reaches behind to unclasp her bra.

She expects him to immediately put his hands back on her chest, and is surprised when he instead pulls her into a kiss. It’s technically nothing more racy than they’ve done hundreds of times before, but the callouses on his hands are dragging across the bare skin of her back, and she finds herself pushing forward, looking for friction. 

He gently tilts her backwards until she is horizontal on the couch, then goes back to kissing her. Darcy’s arms wrap around him, and her fingernails keep catching in a loose thread near the collar of his shirt, until she tugs it off of him.

They’re still only kissing, but the feeling of his bare chest pressed into hers is doing some interesting things to other parts of her anatomy. 

Clint eventually starts kissing down her throat again, paying extra attention to a spot under her ear that has her moaning, while one of his hands comes up to cover her breast. The pressure from his palm is so light that it feels like he’s barely touching her, and Darcy arches up, wanting the same shivery feeling from before.

“Okay, okay. I can take a hint,” Clint murmurs against her collarbone. 

Anything Darcy was going to say is lost as soon as his lips touch the top swell of one breast while his fingers start putting more pressure against the other. Before long he is sucking one nipple into his mouth and rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger. By the time he switches sides, Darcy’s hips are pushing up into his in the same rhythm he’s using. 

Darcy is a little surprised by how her body is responding. She’s more turned on than she has ever been before, and while there are occasional flashes of uncertainty-induced anxiety, Clint’s presence has become so comforting to her that she feels safe.

Darcy tugs on Clint’s hair to bring his face back up to hers. The tug makes his hips do something interesting against hers, and Darcy files that knowledge away for later use.

“Doing okay?” He asks. 

“Fantastic.” Darcy can feel the heat rising in her cheeks, and absently wonders what the rest of her looks like. “Would you mind, um…”

She can’t quite finish the sentence, but her downward glance combined with a slight wriggle brings a knowing smile to his face. 

“Whatever you want,” he promises, and starts kissing his way back down her body.

He takes his time mapping out her torso, laughing almost as hard as she does every time he finds a spot where she’s ticklish. Darcy is still getting used to the idea that sex can be funny when he pauses, running a finger over a scar.

It’s small compared to many of the wounds on his body, but the jagged line disappearing into the waistband of her jeans is the most visible remnant of her time in Boston. Looking at it starts bringing back memories of the night it happened- a thrown beer bottle and a fist in her hair and being slung to the floor on top of broken glass- but then Clint starts to press kisses along the line and she is completely back in the present and wondering why her pants are still on her body.

She has to help him thumb the button on her jeans open- “It’s hard to do this backwards!” he protests, while she laughs- and lifts up her hips so he can slide her jeans and underwear down her legs. He traces his index finger along the full length of the scar, before bending and pressing a kiss to the very middle of it. 

He looks like he might say something about it, but when he opens his mouth he just says “We’ll be more comfortable in your bedroom.”

Darcy huffs. “You’re thinking of this _now_?” she whines. (He’s right, but she’s feeling a little boneless and doesn't want to move.)

“Wasn't expecting this,” he points out. “C’mere.” He pulls her arms around his shoulders and lifts her up, bridal style, and carries her to her bed. 

When they pass by her mirror she is reminded how naked and vulnerable she looks next to him, and by the time he settles her against the pillows she’s tensing up again. Clint notices, of course, and laces their hands together. 

“We can stop,” he tells her quietly.

“No,” she says. “It’s just- no one’s ever-“ 

“I know,” he says, giving her a soft kiss. “Relax. I’ll be careful.” 

He moves his way back down to kissing along her scar, the lowest anyone’s mouth has ever gone on her body, and continues moving lower. He places a few sucking kisses along the insides of her thighs before moving in to lick at the center of her. 

After a couple of passes he does something that makes Darcy moan and buck up underneath him, and he spreads one big hand over her hip to keep her still while he continues to use his mouth on that spot. His other hand moves inward from the top of her leg, telegraphing his intentions before one long finger slides inside her.

Darcy’s not entirely unfamiliar with the concept of fingers, but she’s used to uncomfortable angles and too much friction. When Clint’s finger enters her she’s suddenly aware of how wet she is, his hand moving easy and slow. 

For the first time, she wants _more_. 

Before long Clint adds a second finger, twisting them inside of her. Darcy’s vaguely aware of how loudly she’s moaning- another new experience- and when he crooks his fingers against a certain spot inside of her she thinks she might scream.

He crooks his fingers against that spot again, and again, pulling her clit between his lips and sucking, and then Darcy _is_ screaming, hands fisting into the sheets and back arcing up off the bed.

She comes back down slowly, feeling kind of floaty and a little sleepy. Clint gently pulls his fingers away and presses a final kiss to the inside of her thigh.

“That- that was-“ Darcy’s having trouble breathing, much less forming thoughts. “Thank you.” 

Clint smiles, propping his chin up on one hand. “Whenever you want,” he tells her. 

There’s a nearly-closed cut on his cheekbone from a mission and Darcy kind of can’t believe that someone as strong and important as Clint is offering up that type of commitment. She can’t find words so she reaches down a hand, and he crawls back up her body to kiss her, gentle and loose.

He’s still wearing his jeans, and she can feel his erection through the denim, pressing into her thigh. She pushes her leg forward and is rewarded with a low moan.

“Can I…?” Darcy doesn't know exactly what she’s trying to ask, but she thinks she wants to hear him make that noise again.

Clint’s eyes look a little worried, and he says “You don’t have to do anything.” 

She knows that he means it, and that, more than anything, makes Darcy run one hand down his chest, following the trail of hair to the waistband of his jeans.

The thought of going down on him just brings back memories of choking, so Darcy stays where she is, on her side facing him. He has to wriggle around a little to kick his pants and boxer-briefs down his legs, but before long his face is back level with hers.

He scooted backwards a few inches while he was getting rid of his clothes, so Darcy can see all of him. It’s a little intimidating- Clint is all long lines and hard muscle, scars from all over the world running over his skin. 

When Darcy traces the line of an old knife wound along his ribs Clint exhales suddenly. Darcy raises an eyebrow. “Are you ticklish?”

“No.” 

“I think you’re lying to me.”

Clint gives her a wounded puppy look. “Would I do that?” 

Darcy rolls her eyes and pulls him in for a kiss. She isn't really sure where all of this affection is coming from, but as they lay pressed together she doesn't want to move.

He hasn't really given any indication that he’s aware of how naked he is, hasn't pushed at all, so Darcy thinks she might actually surprise him when she reaches between them to take him in her hand. 

“Holy shit,” he moans against her mouth. 

“Something wrong?” Darcy asks.

“No,” he gasps out. “No, you feel free to keep doing that.”

So she does.

It’s kind of fun, watching his responses. His face is incredibly expressive and he keeps up the train of expletives, cursing in her ear any time she rubs her thumb over a spot just under the crown of his dick. Her other arm is pinned beneath his shoulders, and she frees enough of it to get her other hand in his hair, pulling just hard enough to tip his head back so she can nibble under his jaw.

His moans become pretty broken after that, and he brings his hand to her chin and tips her face up to his. He chokes out her name when he comes, hot and sticky over both their stomachs.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, pulling her into another kiss. 

He finally pulls away enough to prop himself up on an elbow, giving her an intent look. “You doing okay?” 

Darcy smiles. “Yeah. Before, it- it was never like this.” 

Clint’s smile is a little sad, and he gives her one more quick kiss before he goes to get a washcloth to clean them up.

It’s the middle of the afternoon and they probably both have places to be, but he pulls the sheet over top of them and cuddles her close, and Darcy just can’t be bothered to move.

\---

Things continue on in that vein for two months. Darcy’s still a little unsure about the new physicality of their relationship, but he stops every time she asks (and even sometimes when she doesn't). She still isn't comfortable with the idea of giving him a blow job, but he seems more than happy with her hands. _His_ hands have become a major source of distraction in her life. The callouses from his bow drag on her skin in the most delicious way, and whenever they brush across her hand or her cheek in public she has to fight down the desire to drag him to her room (which is rapidly becoming their room, especially once she discovers that she sleeps better when he's there).

She still has occasional nightmares but she hasn't had a panic attack in months, even when her anxiety surfaces, and she thinks it’s because she knows that Clint would hurt himself before he hurt her. Together they figure out the things she likes and the things that return her to the past, and before long most of her mental associations with physical contact have been replaced with happy memories. 

She feels more comfortable sharing things with Susan than she did in the beginning, and she keeps doing her therapy homework, which mostly consists of keeping her diary and being honest with Clint. 

Figuring out how to communicate what she’s thinking to him continues to take some doing. His reactions are typically a full 180 from what she expects, and he doesn't initiate anything unless she’s explicitly said that it’s something she wants. 

She appreciates being able to set all the boundaries, but vocalizing her desires tends to make her feel awkward, and now that she thinks she’s ready to take the next step she finds herself wishing that he would say the words for her. 

All of this comes to a head when an attempt at making brownies turns into flinging batter at each other. Darcy is trying to get close enough to poke him with a spoon when she skids through some spilled batter, crashing into Clint’s chest and sending them both down onto the floor. 

They’re lying on the hardwood, laughing hysterically and making an even bigger mess, when Darcy rolls up onto her side and says “I want to have sex with you.” 

Clint’s laughter stops abruptly. He glances around at their mess with a confused face, then sits up next to her and asks “Are you sure?” 

Darcy nods, reaching for his fingers. “I want- more. Not that what we've been doing isn't great,” she hastens to add, “I just, I love you, and I trust you, and I want to try this.” 

Clint’s hand squeezes hers as he helps her to her feet. “You have any plans for this afternoon?” 

“Um, no,” Darcy says. “Were you thinking… right now?” 

Clint drops a kiss into her forehead, nosing along her hairline. “Your call, but I think if we schedule a time you’re just going to worry until it comes.” 

Considering the tizzy she’d worked herself into before the dinner where they’d agreed to tell the team about their relationship, he might have a point. 

“Okay.”

\---

Darcy expects things to move quickly once they get into her room, and is surprised when instead activities proceed much like their other encounters. There’s some kissing, some touching, some laughing, and some moaning, and Clint brings her off with his tongue, fingers laced through hers. 

She’s uncertainly reaching to return the favor, but he bats her hands away, rolling over to fish a condom out of her nightstand. 

Darcy lies back on the bed, eyes closed tight and breathing shallow. She can almost hear Clint thinking, so she’s not all that surprised when she hears his voice. She is, however, surprised by what he says. 

“Can I make a suggestion?” 

Darcy laughs shakily. “Suggest away.” 

“How about I stay here, and you come take over.” 

Darcy opens one eye to look over at Clint. He’s lying next to her on the bed, starfished out on his back and already looking moderately debauched. Darcy’s only ever had sex in the missionary position- which he knows- and being on top seems equal parts terrifying and empowering. 

After a moment the empowering emotion wins over, and she rolls over to his side of the bed, swinging one leg over his hips and leaning down for a kiss. 

“Any time you want to stop, you stop, okay?” Clint murmurs. 

Darcy nods, and then his hand is between them, sliding between her legs and helping her sink down on top of him. 

Darcy’s chest goes tight with the feeling. It’s been a long time since there’s been anything more than fingers inside of her, and she takes a moment to feel herself stretch around him. Clint’s hands are on her hips- not pushing, just resting- and his eyes are on her face. 

Despite what everyone has been telling her, she’d been expecting this to hurt, and is delighted to discover that the stretch is comfortable, gratifying. 

Most importantly, Clint is lying underneath her. She doesn't feel trapped. She feels loved. Safe.

She gives an experimental roll of her hips and gasps at the sensation. She’s not sure if it’s better than his fingers or tongue, but it’s good. She leans forward a little, bracing her hands on his chest as she rolls her hips again. 

It doesn't take long for them to fall into a rhythm, Clint’s hips rocking up underneath hers as she sets the pace. His hands come up to cover hers, squeezing in time with their movements. 

When Darcy leans forward to give him a kiss, the new angle has him hitting something different inside of her, while his pelvis rubs into her clit. She can’t help the loud noise she makes, speeding up her movements while gasping into Clint’s mouth.

She’s pretty sure she screams his name when she comes, but mostly she’s just aware of the way her whole body tenses up, everything centered on the way her hips are still shallowly grinding, even though she’s not intentionally moving.

Clint’s hands move back down to her hips and he thrusts up into her a few more times before he goes still, throwing his head back with a long moan. 

Darcy slumps forward, tucking her face into his neck. “You okay?” Clint asks. His voice is raspy, and his breathing sounds like it’ll take a while to even out. 

“Yeah,” Darcy says. “You were perfect.”

Clint snorts. “Sweetheart, you can do that anytime you want.” 

They stay like that for a few moments before Clint taps her hip. “Let me up for a second?”

Darcy reluctantly rolls off of him, getting cold as soon as he slides out of the bed to take care of the condom. By the time he comes back with a glass of water she’s bundled herself up into the blankets and is halfway asleep. She makes a low noise of protest when he nudges the glass against her lips, but feels better after drinking some of the water. 

When Clint slides into the bed she snuggles into his chest, taking hold of his wrist to wrap his arm around her waist. She can feel his laughter, but his other arm has come up to card through her hair, so she decides he doesn't mind.


End file.
